The Badger's Promise
by FruitCat
Summary: He wasn't dark, despite all that had happened in his short life. He walks a fine line between good and evil, light and dark, hope and despair. Perhaps the House of the Loyal will be able to keep him from the abyss.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Arthur A. Levine Books. I make no money on this work of fan fiction.

A/N: I've tinkered with this one a bit, and am currently working on Chapter Two. I'd like to blame life, but it's mostly been sheer laziness.

_**Chapter One: It's Magic**_

Harry Potter was not a normal boy.

His relatives liked to think that _they _were perfectly normal, thank you very much, but Harry seemed to be a blight on that perfect normality. And they made sure he knew it.

Harry looked into the mirror of the bathroom he was ordered to clean. A yellowing bruise stood out clearly on a malnourished face. He sighed, knowing he was going to be dodging questions from the school nurse again. However, he sucked it up and resumed cleaning, hoping to be done in time for some table scraps and a chance to escape from his Uncle's belt. The welts on his back were just starting to be bearable. A nice little 'Birthday Gift' from his Uncle.

Harry heard a faint knock downstairs, followed by "Boy! Get that door!". Harry put down his cleaning supplies and hurried down the stairs, watching carefully for his cousin. Dudley Dursley had a penchant for shoving Harry down the stairs.

He opened the door slightly, and blinked at the sight of a strangely dressed, plump, smiling woman holding a letter. Her smile faltered a bit at his appearance, but stayed on her face.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Harry asked, opening the door a little wider.

"You certainly can dearie. Are you, by chance, Harry Potter?" She asked, looking down at him with kind eyes. Her eyes made his throat want to close up, and Harry had to fight the foreign feeling. Kind eyes and friendly smiles could quickly become stony stares and curled lips.

"Yes ma'am." At his answer, the strange woman handed him the letter.

"My name is Professor Sprout, and you are a very special boy Harry Potter. May I come in and speak with your relatives?" The smile stayed, and Harry felt a warm spot radiate briefly in his chest. 'How weird' he thought, but he opened the door for the woman.

"Who's at the door, boy?" His Uncle bellowed. Harry led the woman to the living room, and went into the kitchen to face his Uncle.

"She calls herself Professor Sprout. She wants to speak with you." He saw his Aunt glance at him with hateful eyes, which widened at the letter clutched in Harry's hand. "She also brought me this letter." Both his Aunt and his Uncle raced (or tried to) into the living room, where the woman known as Professor Sprout surveyed the home.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I presume?" She said, her voice gaining a frosty undertone that seemed at odds with the warmth the woman had exuded earlier.

"What do you want?" Harry's Aunt, Petunia, spat.

"Why, to prepare young Mr. Potter for Hogwarts, of course. Go ahead and read your letter, dearie." Harry glanced at her, then at his relatives. They seemed livid. But, the letter was addressed to him; it was even sent to the Cupboard Under the Stairs. The question was, did he want to risk his relatives' wrath by satiating his curiosity?

He opened the letter, and his eyes widened.

"No! He will not be going to that…that…freaky school to learn a few magic tricks! I won't hear of it!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, pointing his meaty fingers in the Professor's direction.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Mr. Dursley. By magical law, which you must adhere to as you hold custody of a magical child, Mr. Potter must attend a magical school ." Her words did little to stop Vernon, whose tirade was only just beginning to build. She emphasized the word magical, and with each utterance of that forbidden word, Vernon Dursley's face became redder and redder. However, she simply walked over to Harry, and put her hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Potter?"

Harry gripped the letter harder, reading each and every word. "I knew I was different. I knew there had to be a name for the things that I can do. I knew it…and so did you!" He exclaimed angrily, facing his Aunt.

She sneered at him. "Of course I knew, you little brat. How could I not when sweet, perfect, amazing little Lily held our parents in the palm of her freaky little hands!" She all but growled. "We swore we wouldn't deal with any of your nonsense, and we didn't." Professor Sprout narrowed her eyes at those words. She had a bad feeling about how they dealt with his 'nonsense'. She held herself straighter.

"I am taking Mr. Potter to collect his school supplies. I don't believe you'll be seeing him again, but I promise you'll be seeing me." She gently guided Harry to the front door, and they stepped out.

"So…the things I can do, that's magic?"

"That's right, dearie."

"And this school…Hogwarts, can teach me how?"

"Not just how. Any witch or wizard can do magic, Mr. Potter. Hogwarts will teach you not only how to do magic, but how to control it and wield it. Magic is powerful, Mr. Potter. It takes a great deal of responsibility to use it correctly. Now, hold on to my hands for a moment, and don't let go. We are going to use a Wizarding form of transportation, called Apparition. It's a bit uncomfortable, so hold on." And with a soft sounding crack, they were gone.

With a gasp, Harry stumbled. That was terrible! It felt like he was being sucked though a very, very small straw.

"Are you all right, dearie?" Professor Sprout, held Harry up until he was able to settle down.

"Y-Yes ma'am. I'm fine." He settled his protesting stomach, and looked around. The sights made his eyes widen in awe.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter. Come along now, we have much to do."

They began walking down the alley with slow steps, allowing Harry to take everything in.

"Mr. Potter…" Professor Sprout started, but stopped, seeming to collect her thoughts. Harry glanced up at her as she put on a determined face, and raised a long stick of wood. She mumbled some words, and they continued.

"Have your relatives ever…harmed you, in any way?" She asked quietly, looking down into the green eyes of her current charge.

Harry's lips pursed, and he looked away. Sprout sighed, and stopped. She turned to him and made him face her.

"You are not going to be going back to those people, Mr. Potter. I guarantee it. However, it would be easier to convince others if I know what they did, if you admit to what they did. What did they do to you Harry?" He looked back into her eyes, but was silent for a while. She made a decision.

"We'll be stopping by the Ministry to talk to Child Services later today. Would you rather speak of it there?" Harry weighed his options. It seemed that he had no choice but to tell. At least this way, he'd only have to say it once.

"Yes, please." He said quietly, ashamed at how he'd cracked. He'd used to be able to be silent in the wake of the kindest faces at his old school. Why did this woman break through his defenses?

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, let's head to the bank." At the despairing face he had, she said, "Your parents left you a vault or two, so no need to worry about being able to afford your materials." He looked confused, but accepted her answer.

"This is Gringotts, the wizard bank. It's run by goblins. Goblins are vicious warriors, but nowadays they settle their bloodlust by weaving through Wizarding loopholes. They are not a race you want on your bad side, so always treat Goblins with respect." With that, they entered the bank. It was all very straight forward; they went to his vaults, took out some money, and were on their way to Flourish and Blotts. On the way, Professor Sprout was teaching Harry the basics of the monetary system in the Wizarding world.

Flourish and Blotts was unlike any store Harry had ever seen. The walls were lined with books, from floor to ceiling; Harry couldn't keep the small smile from his face.

"I take it you like books, then?" Professor Sprout said with some amusement in her voice. At his shy "Yes ma'am." she became thankful that they had brought a little extra money with them. They purchased the standard first year books, then Harry also chose '_Rebirth of Unwritten Magic'_, a book on old magic and practices, and a book of fiction titled _'Wand of Nowhere_.' The duo made their way out of the bookstore and back into Diagon Alley. The rest of Harry's supplies were bought except for two; his wand, and his robes.

When Harry went to buy his new robes, he met a snobbish boy named Draco Malfoy. They traded insults, most pertaining to Draco's thoughts on anyone not pure blooded, and Harry calling him an idiot. Strangely enough, when it was time to leave, Draco told Harry that he had never met anyone who could keep up with him so well, and decided that they would be allies. He walked away with his head held high, and left Harry a bit confused.

Last was the wand, which seemed to take forever to get. Harry went through wand after wand, but none felt right. Ollivander, the wand maker, reverently handed Harry a Holly-Phoenix feather wand. It grew warm in Harry's hands, but let out a sorrowful song when he waved it. Ollivander hesitated, then took the wand back. He stared at Harry for a while, then disappeared into the back of his shop. He came back holding a reddish brown wand, 10 ½ inches. This one was made of Monterillo wood and a Griffin claw. Harry's magic surged through his body and into the wand, and the wand seemed to vibrate. It pulsed in time to Harry's heart, and he knew; this was his wand.

"You walk a fine line, Mr. Potter. This wand can be a wizard's greatest defense, but also his greatest weapon. Be careful of your choices, Mr. Potter."

The warning spooked Harry, but the joy he felt from his new wand soothed him.

"It's time we head to the Ministry now, Harry." Professor Sprout said softly. Harry simply nodded and followed his future teacher to a building called 'The Leaky Cauldron.' Professor Sprout led him to a fire place, explained to him about Floo travel, and away they went.

Floo travel wasn't much better than Apparition, Harry decided. After stumbling out of the fireplace, Professor Sprout led him by the shoulder to a woman at a desk. The next few hours proved to be the longest of Harry's life.

After getting over their shock of Harry Potter coming to the Ministry, and needing to talk to Child Services about abuse, the Wizarding social workers were in a tizzy. They questioned him, both with and without children's Veriteserum, took notes of his injuries and prescribed him with potions and salves to fix the damage. They fire called Albus Dumbledore, who was responsible for placing him with the Dursleys in the first place. They looked into the situation with a man named Sirius Black, who, according to the Potter's Will, was the boy's godfather. This led to them finding out that he'd never even had a trial. That sent chaos throughout the rest of the Ministry. In the end, Harry was placed on a potions regimen and placed with Professor Sprout until the start of the new term, and Sirius Black was finally getting a trial.

By the end of it all, Harry Potter was one very tired boy. Professor Sprout took him to her home, made up a room for him, and let him fall asleep. In the days to follow, Harry would read his book with a flourish, wanting to know everything about the new world opened up to him. He wanted to be prepared for anything his new life would throw at him.

Harry Potter was not a normal boy. But neither was he a freak, or a burden, or a brat.

Harry Potter was a wizard, and he was finally home.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Arthur A. Levine Books. I make no money on this work of fan fiction.

**Chapter Two: Follies and Friendships**

It could be said that Albus Dumbledore was a great man. He was the defeater of Grindelwald, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, etcetera, etcetera.

It must be said, however, that Albus Dumbledore, while great, was just a man. A man who looked for the best in most and ignored the worst. A man who put too much faith in the ties of blood, and chose to not look at the bigger picture.

Yes, Albus Dumbledore was just a man, capable of great mistakes.

Malnutrition. Mental, physical, and emotional abuse. Improperly healed broken bones, no vaccinations, _forced to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs_! The injustices against young Harry Potter were laid out on his desk in very formal, professional notes.

Albus Dumbledore hung his head in shame, allowing tears to fall from his aged eyes. How had he been so wrong?

No more. He looked forward with grim determination. No longer would he blindly make decisions for the good of anyone. He would take other's advice, look at the bigger picture and peer beneath the surface. He would not let another child suffer like Harry Potter had. Like Severus Snape had…like Tom Riddle had.

* * *

The weeks passed by in a queer sort of blur, and suddenly Harry found himself being ushered onto the Hogwarts Express by Professor Sprout. With her parting words, "See you at the feast, dearie!", ringing in his ears, Harry set off to find a compartment to stash his trunk and rest his body.

He had gotten there early, so finding an empty seat was easy. He made himself comfortable against the corner of a window seat, pulled out '_Wand of Nowhere_', and began to read. He had skimmed through his required texts and made notes, so he was content to lose himself in the wonders of fiction.

He had just finished an interesting section when the door slid open, and a tan boy with curly black hair leaned in and grinned.

"Sorry to disturb ya, mate, but do ya think we could sit with you? Everywhere else is either full or unfriendly." The boy said, gesturing to a shyly smiling girl who waved.

Harry said it was ok, and the two filed in and closed the door.

"Thanks." The boy sat down, and extended his hand. "My name's Wayne Hopkins, and my shy friend here is Megan Jones." The girl, Megan, pouted a bit at the boy.

"Hello Wayne, Megan. I'm Harry Potter." The two looked a bit wide eyed, but then they just smiled.

"It's nice to meet you Harry." Megan said, relaxing into her seat.

The rest of the ride, Harry tried to keep from getting attached to the pair sitting across from him, but was finding it difficult. For one, they were both very nice. Wayne had an air of self-confidence that seemed to seep into every word he spoke, and Megan had a very calming demeanor about her. After a few minutes of conversation, Wayne stated, quite boldly, that they were all going to be great friends, regardless of what house they were sorted into. At Harry's raised eyebrow, the boy just smiled cheekily. "Whether you like it or not!"

The rest of the train ride was filled with Wayne and Megan's chatter, with Harry throwing in his own comments from time to time. Draco Malfoy, the boy from the robe shop, had stopped by the compartment. Introductions were made, he and Harry traded insults with a smile, and he left. Megan and Wayne gave Harry a funny smile at the exchange, but he just shrugged. Eventually their conversation drifted off, and they sat in companionable silence. The warm feeling from before pulsed in Harry's chest, and he fought the insane urge to smile.

* * *

The train ride came to an end, and all of the first years were hustled towards boats. Wayne led them to a boat, where they were joined by another first year named Hermione Granger. The girl talked a lot, spouting off questions and facts and "I read all about you-". Harry tuned her out after that.

The castle was amazing. It loomed above them all, and Harry _felt_ the magic of the structure and grounds wash over his skin. It felt warm and comforting, like the hugs Professor Sprout had taken to giving him at random intervals, or like the hugs he used to dream about getting from his mum. Soft, safe, happy.

A stern looking witch approached them, and began laying down the rules of Hogwarts. Houses were explained as were points, and they were warned about the consequences of poor behavior. Harry listened with half an ear, more interested in observing the pure _magic_ around him than hear the elder woman drone on. He didn't miss her ushering the students inside the Great Hall, nor did he miss the explanation of how sorting would go. She placed a hat on a stool at the front of the hall, and it began singing.

It sang of all four houses, the brave, the loyal, the smart, and the cunning. Harry felt insecurity flood his body. Would he fit anywhere? Was there a place for him, in this amazingly magical place?

Wayne gave Harry a wide smile, before going up to the hat when his name was called. Hufflepuff.

Megan gave Harry a small smile and a small touch on the shoulder, before she too went up. Hufflepuff.

Draco Malfoy swaggered up to the hat, and was proclaimed a Slytherin before the hat even touched his head.

All around him were Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins. But would he fit with any of them?

"Potter, Harry!"

The whispers broke out, and Harry made his way to the hat. He looked up at the other professors as he moved, and saw Professor Sprout smiling down at him. That warm feeling returned.

"Difficult, very difficult."

The voice resonated in his head, and Harry realized it was the hat that was speaking.

"Brave enough to stand on your own, cunning to get out of dangerous situations, a thirst for knowledge…what's this? Not afraid of hard work, that's clear, but there's something else."

Harry thought of Professor Sprout and her kind words, and of Megan's smiles and Wayne's grins. A tiny, selfish part of him wanted to stay close, to guard those words and expressions and earn more. That small, malnourished part that wanted attention and affection and kindness.

"You would be loyal, that's for certain, and not stupid about handing it out…Very well. Better be…HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry let out a breath as he hopped off of the stool and walked towards the applauding black and gold table. Wayne scooted over so Harry could sit between him and Megan, and gave the other boy a wide grin. The other Hufflepuffs made introductions, but quickly hushed to hear the rest of the sorting.

Hufflepuff gained a few more members before the feast began, and Harry made the acquaintance of his fellow first years and a few of the upper years. He asked about classes, and the professors especially. A fourth year by the name of Cedric Diggory was happy to share his thoughts.

"As long as you apply yourself and actually try, the classes aren't all that awful. Just be wary of Professor Snape; he's really strict, and not at all shy about deducting points for the smallest things. He's also a bit preferential towards his snakes, but most of the Heads are in a way. Just don't cross him, and you'll do fine."

The older boy went on to explain about the defense teacher, named Remus Lupin, who had started working there the year before.

"He's friendly, as far as professors go, and really knows his stuff. He's also a werewolf. Ministry made a huge stink out of that. Really wanted to sack him, but Dumbledore wasn't having it. He brought up some of the teaching mistakes the Ministry had made, like trying to keep Binns, a bloody ghost, as a teacher. They became quite after that, so here he is."

Harry nodded at his explanations and thanked the older boy for his help. He was then drawn into a conversation between Wayne and another first year named Justin Finch-Fletchley.

As the conversations floated around him, he felt the overwhelming feeling of rightness. Even as he bid Megan goodnight and did the same with his dormmates, the feeling didn't go away. When he laid on his bed, Harry swore he could feel arms wrapped around him, a soft singing in his ears. He dreamt well that night, a soft memory of a mother's arms and a faintly spoken lullaby sending him to sleep.


End file.
